


Broken Wings

by forecast_cellar



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fallen Angel Reader, I mean a really slow burn, I might add an extra chapter at the end that's smut, If I do I'll change the tags, angel reader, this is a slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22277401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forecast_cellar/pseuds/forecast_cellar
Summary: An angel is cast down from Heaven into Hell, and as she tries to find her way back she finds that maybe, just maybe, Hell has everything she was missing before.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t as bad as you’d imagined it would be. You know, dying and all. 

You had been driving home from your University over winter break. The streets were coated in a thick layer of snow and ice, the danger of which you thought could be alleviated by a hefty dose of caution. Though you did your best, ultimately, you had less control of your vehicle than you had hoped. An icy mountain pass full of college aged drivers didn’t lend itself well to safety, and you paid the price for it. One moment your car was sliding towards the edge of the road and the next you were gazing up at a large set of pristine gates. Your death felt like a real blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment. You supposed that was for the best. 

Being in Heaven was a lot to take in. It was spotless. It was downright perfect. It wasn’t bland, like you had fretfully imagined it would be on Earth, instead it was like the purest city you’ve ever seen. People spent time together, laughing and dancing and singing. Oh God, the singing. It was the Angel’s Gift, clear tones and haunting melodies ruminating from within each citizen of Heaven. You were amused to see the little details of Heaven in practice, like how each person still tended to style their light white dress and wings to their liking, or how everyone received a small gold halo floating dreamily above their head. It could be plucked out of the air and transmuted at will – some chose to wear theirs tilted at an angle, or as bracelets, or as a band around their neck. You had something, however, that wasn’t quite uniform in this idyllic paradise.

You had, in the most literal sense, a silver tongue. Your tongue hadn’t been silver while you were alive, but had become so upon your entering the afterlife. You weren’t entirely clear on how the system worked, as many of the bureaucratic processes of Heaven were incredibly locked down, but over your time there you’d gathered enough information to know that some angels received additional gifts upon their entry. You didn’t know why, or what qualified you to gain one, but it never seemed to be of much importance. Particularly, because your gift wasn’t very useful in the first place. 

Some angels who were blessed with extra gifts received things like unmatched skill in a certain field, a set of larger or more ornate wings, or a weak form of magic that allowed them to do small party tricks to delight friends. As far as you were aware, you were the only angel in Heaven with a differently colored tongue, and as far as you were aware, it had no effects. You didn’t taste more, or speak infinite languages, or anything. By this point, you had given up on it and just considered it a quirk beyond your understanding. 

Your life in Heaven was sweet, delightfully so, but at times could get mundane. You loved the joy and kindness that everyone around you held in their hearts, but you longed to exist in a place where you could do something worthwhile with your time. You longed for the ability to make a change. 

This is what would eventually get you cast down from Heaven.

You couldn’t seem to silence that drive within you, pestering the higher-ranking angels for anything you could solve or fix or tweak. Their first solution was to start giving you small, purposefully broken machines and contraptions to fix up. You called yourself a mechanic and tried to find fulfillment in it, but it just didn’t scratch that itch of making an important mark. You got more and more belligerent, until eventually, your judgement was changed. 

One of the last things you remember is the sensation of falling, like you had never felt before.


	2. Chapter 2

You awoke crumpled on the ground, aching in all your joints and dusty red dirt coating a thin layer of color onto your white dress. You groaned and shifted, trying to lift yourself up and dust yourself off, but the screaming in your knees and shoulders encouraged you to stay put for a bit longer. You looked around from the ground, seeing damaged buildings stretching high into a hazy red sky, and your pulse started to quicken as you faced the fact that you truly were in Hell. You closed your eyes hard and opened them again a few times, and when you were greeted by the same hostile environment each time you felt your blood run cold. 

//

A small blue demon was walking along the outskirt of town when he saw a body crumpled on the ground. He ambled over to it, dimly thinking he could pickpocket it if they were unconscious. When he got there, he found a young woman flat on her back staring into the sky, and with his pickpocket plan out the window he began a small interrogation.   
“Hey lady,” he said, his tone rough like chewing gravel. “What’re you, uh… what’re you doin on the ground like that?”

//

You pulled yourself up and looked at the gremlin-like creature. ‘So this is what demons look like’, you thought to yourself as you realized this was the first you’d ever seen. “Oh, thank Heaven!” you said to him, taking his hand to help yourself up even though he didn’t offer. “You’ll never believe it, I was cast down from Heaven and I must have hit the ground so hard, all my bones ache and I-“ Your rambling was cut short as you noticed the demon’s eyes begin to glaze over. His jaw hung slightly limp. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and the longer you stood there speaking, the further he fell into helplessness. “Hello? Are you okay?” you questioned, but his only response was a slow smile that spread across his face. He was slightly drooling. 

You began to look around for help, unsure of what this demon’s problem was, when you were surrounded by a group of large, scarred demons. “What have we here?” The leader taunted, coming closer as his gang formed a loose circle around the two of you. “A fallen angel, eh? This is a real treat, huh boys?” You let out a small gasp and snatched your halo out of the air, quickly melding it in your hand into a small golden bracelet that wrapped around your wrist. A quick glance at the blue demon affirmed he was still just as catatonic as before. As the group of large demons began to close in, you frantically whispered to him, “Please, help me!”

As if a puppeteer had snapped his strings, he stiffened up and turned towards the leader of the group. His movements were harsh and unnatural, and it scared you even more. Without even a hint of hesitation, he threw the first punch as he squared up to the leader of the gang. His eyes never lost that glazed look. The shock of it all and the mass brawl that followed was enough of a commotion for you to slip away, running with tears in your eyes down the streets of Hell, unsure of where you were going or what you would do now.


	3. Chapter 3

You crouched, hoping you were hidden, in a thin, dark alley towards the center of the city as you tried to parse out everything that had happened to you. Your head was spinning with it all, the fall, the blue demon, the danger seemingly everywhere you went. You took the gang leader’s words to heart and decided the first course of action would be to hide that you were an angel. Your halo was already taken care of, so you made your next task disguising your wings. Looking around for anything of use in the alley, all you found was a shard of broken glass. ‘This will have to do,’ you told yourself, and you used it to cut the lowest section of your dress into a wide strip. Wrapping it around yourself, you fashioned a makeshift wing-binder that could be passed off as a strange jacket until you could figure something else out. With all the dirt staining your white dress, you figured that portion of the disguise had solved itself.

For the second order of your one-person meeting, you went over everything that happened with the blue demon again. You had come to a shaky conclusion on this: it must be your Angel’s Gift. Your silver tongue, useless against fellow angels, seemed incredibly potent here in Hell, and that scared you even more. It’s one thing to be lost in a situation where everyone is dangerous, it’s an entirely different thing to be lost and powerful in that situation. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of music playing from somewhere nearby. Now sufficiently disguised, you stepped out of the alley and began down the main street in the direction of the sound. As you rounded a corner you peered through a group of demons at a set of televisions, finding the source of the music; a small demon girl sitting on what appeared to be a news anchor’s desk. “Inside of every demon is a rainbow,” she sang out, and your attention was thoroughly piqued. This seemed like such a different place from the area you’d been cornered, or even the alley. She seemed to emanate light in a place of darkness. What really caught your attention, though, was hearing her sweet voice sing “We can turn around, they’ll be Heaven bound!”

You had a swift moment of feeling like you were short circuiting. Heaven bound? Could this demon girl get you back to Heaven? Was that even possible? You were glued to the television until you heard the info you needed: The Happy Hotel. That was where you needed to go to get back to Heaven! All you had to do was find it! 

You turned to ask one of the demons standing around the televisions if they knew where you could find the Happy Hotel, before remembering the blue demon and stopping yourself. You weren’t sure what your silver tongue could do, and you didn’t want to hurt anyone with it on accident. With all of this in mind, you decided that it may be for the best that you stay quiet, for now at least.

However, this meant you were left to find the Happy Hotel on your own. You wandered the streets of Hell for a long time, long enough to get tired, when you decided to stop and rest for a small break. You dipped into a small club, the space above the doorway decorated with a simple and direct neon sign: “BOOZE”.

The inside was run down and dirty, but the place was full regardless. You tried to seem confident as you walked to the bar and took one of the few remaining open seats. On the seats next to you were two demons gossiping together at such a volume that even in the crowded club you could hear what they were saying. 

“I can’t believe you, Angie. I didn’t peg you for a prude bitch.” A sharp voice rang out, followed by laughter.

“Nah, nah doll you’re gettin’ me all wrong. What’s better than a free room and food, yeah? Nothin’, except maybe free drugs and sex!” 

Both parties laughed at this exchange just as your thoughts were pierced by the bartender clearing his throat and looking at you pointedly. You panicked, seeing as you didn’t have any money and didn’t want to draw the kind of attention that getting kicked out would bring. You struggled for only a moment, then made the hard decision to lean forward and whisper to the bartender, “Bring me a drink. Something simple. Then, regardless of whether I drink it or not, do not come over here again.” As you spoke you saw his face relax, and a gentle nod followed your directions. He left momentarily, returning with a short glass of honey colored liquid, and then leaving for good. You gripped the glass in your hand and listened back in to the conversation happening beside you.

“Do ya think you’ll lose your place after all the shit we tore up tonight?”

“Eh, I don’t think so. The princess is too soft. Besides, even if I did, I could always just crash on my favorite couch thanks to my favorite friend, right Cherri?” The voice you now knew was ‘Angie’ teased.

“Ha! I wouldn’t bet on it. Last thing I want is an invitation to get involved with Val’s bullshit.” 

‘Who is Val?’ you wondered, ‘and what is his bullshit that’s so bad to get involved in?’ You listened back in for answers when you heard something that made your heart skip a beat.

“-I just wish they woulda named it somethin’ better than ‘Happy Hotel’, you know? A name like that… it’s not right for my image.”

Your hands shook around your glass, which had yet to leave the counter. This demon, Angie, knew the Happy Hotel? Lived there even? This was your chance! You faltered at trying to figure out how best to handle this situation. Use your silver tongue? No, with a friend right next to him it would be too obvious that you had manipulated him somehow. Follow him home? Again, no. That could be dangerous, he could see you, or go somewhere seedy before going home. You closed your eyes and sent a silent prayer up to Heaven before resorting to a last-ditch effort. 

You knocked back your drink in one gulp and pretended to black out.


	4. Chapter 4

“What the fuck’s wrong with her?” you heard Cherri’s voice say from above you, as you laid on the ground doing your best impression of somebody who’s unconscious. 

“I dunno. I’ll tell ya what I do think, I think she’s a real lightweight out of her league in a bar like this. I just… ugh, I don’t feel right about leavin’ her here. I’ll take her to the Hotel in the car the princess lent me.” Angie’s voice spoke.

“You’re getting soft, Angel Dust.” You made a mental note that ‘Angie’ was short for Angel Dust.

“Bite me.”

You spent longer than you’d like to admit pretending to be unconscious. At every point where you thought it may be time to give up the act, you’d get too nervous to just pop up and break the façade. You decided that once you got to your destination, the Hotel, you’d ‘wake up’.

The car ride wasn’t unreasonable but did take long enough for the alcohol to settle into your stomach in a way that you definitely didn’t like. Your head started to hurt, and your stomach started to cramp. You didn’t drink a ton when you were alive, but you knew you could handle more than you had at the bar. Either the alcohol in Hell is really potent stuff, or a biproduct of being an angel is that you can’t handle booze anymore. Maybe both. 

As the engine stopped, you felt yourself get hoisted over a thin shoulder and carried into a building. You let your eyes flutter halfway open and were met with a dimly lit, slightly crumbling lobby. Was this the Hotel? Could a place this dismal really get you back to Heaven?

You heard Angel call out “Charlie! I have us a new customer!” as you were unceremoniously dumped onto a threadbare couch. Quick footsteps pounded closer and closer as you held your aching stomach and groaned. 

“Hi!” a feminine voice said, inches from your face. You opened your eyes fully to see the demon from the TV. “I’m Charlie! Welcome to the Happy Hotel! Are you looking for redemption?” She seemed to bounce excitedly with every syllable.

“Alright toots, let her breathe for a second. She passed out at the club and I didn’t feel right about leavin’ her so I was hoping she could stay here for a night or two.” Angel said.

“Oh! Of course! I’ll get you a room all set up and we can talk about everything in the morning. Can you walk?”

Fifteen minutes later you were walking up the stairs of the Happy Hotel, towards your new room. You entered and laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and processing everything that had lead you to this point. You had no idea how to handle any of this, whether you could even get back to Heaven, or who you could trust with the information that you were an angel. Even then, there was the more looming issue of being locked into silence by your so-called ‘gift’. You stomach gave a disapproving gurgle as a pang of pain went through you.

Overwhelmed by it all, you closed your eyes and promptly slept.


	5. Chapter 5

You woke up for the second time in Hell once again with the hope that it was a dream. By the time you were fully awake, you had again accepted it wasn’t and tried to put your best game face on. At the foot of your bed was a small pile of clothes and a note that simply read “You’re welcome. -Angel.” You changed into a ruffled burgundy skirt with a simple black turtleneck for a top. It hugged you well enough to keep your wings pressed to your back, which was perfect. You discarded your tattered white dress and headed down the stairs.

Turning into the lobby, you noticed what appeared to be a kitchen and dining area through another door across the wide area. Even from this distance you could smell sweet and savory breakfast scents, so you decided to investigate.   
Pushing through the door you saw the group seated around a heavy oak table. As you entered, Charlie jumped up and introduced you to Vaggie, Husker, and Niffty before leading you to an open seat next to Angel. As you sat down, you felt tension sink in to your muscles as you began to be bombarded with questions from each demon around the table. Luckily, right as the silence began to settle and the expectation was put on you to answer, a tall figure came in from the kitchen humming to himself as he carried a large silver serving tray loaded with breakfast dishes.

//

“Now, what do we have here!” Alastor exclaimed upon seeing an extra face around the table. “If I had known you would have been joining us, my dear, I would have made a very special breakfast to celebrate! The name’s Alastor, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” at his final word, he set down the tray upon the table and gave a small bow in your direction, never once taking his eyes off your face. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up as his glowing red eyes locked with yours for a moment that felt like eternity. 

Alastor’s smile spread across his cheeks looking at you. This was going to be very interesting, he could practically sense it. There was something so intriguing, so alluring about this new demon…

//

“This is, uhh, our new friend,” Angel began, trailing off as he looked sideways at you. “Who I actually never got the name of. I don’t think none of us did.”

All eyes were on you again, this time Alastor’s included. You didn’t dare say a word, in case you accidentally hurt any of these demons who had so far been so kind to you. You looked around the table before sheepishly tapping your throat and then shaking your head, making a frowny face while you did it to accentuate your meaning. 

“Ah,” Alastor began, his smile creeping further up his face and a soft white noise seemingly coming from his general direction, “is our new friend…mute?”

You nodded vigorously. If that was the lie you had to go with to keep your identity safe, then sure, let them think you’re mute. Vaggie left and came back with a small pen and a sheet of paper, on which you wrote in large, swooping letters “MY NAME IS (Y/N), THANK YOU FOR THE HELP.” Everyone smiled at your gracious communication while Charlie asked, “So, (Y/N), would you like to be redeemed?” 

‘What a loaded question, and she doesn’t even know it’ you thought to yourself. You weren’t even sure if fallen angels could be redeemed, whether they wanted it or not. But you had to at least try, didn’t you?

You nodded in response and she clapped her hands together with joy, suggesting some small ways everyone around the hotel could celebrate the new guest. You looked away from her cheerful face to hazard a glance at Alastor, who met your gaze as soon as it hit him. His smile broadened and he seemed to peer straight into you, past any mask you could have put on.


	6. Chapter 6

Alastor was going to hear your voice. He had decided that the moment you tapped your delicate looking throat sheepishly at the table. You were the polar opposite of himself, the Radio Demon, who quite literally forced his voice to reach nearly every citizen of Hell. He found you infinitely interesting. Deep in his bones he could sense an immense power coming from you, but he had no way of telling what the root of it was. You were so very exciting to him, choosing to exist silently, showing up without anyone knowing a thing about you. It was almost like you were personally challenging him to figure you out – his very own puzzle. He excused himself from breakfast and left to town to see if he could rustle up some information on you anywhere in Hell. 

//

You, on the other hand, decided to spend a little time exploring the area around the Hotel today. After finishing up your meal you stepped out and began walking towards the area where the countryside faded into dense city. Once there, you spent some time poking around in the various shops and restaurants to get a feel for your temporary new home. Towards the evening, you stopped in at the final venue in town before you decided to head back to the Hotel: a little back alley club simply called “Mimzy’s.” You stepped in and the place was ornate, beautifully upkept, and cool in contrast to the dry warmth of Hell. You seated yourself at a table and ordered a small meal from the waiter that came to check up on you, looking around in awe at the carved décor and the large stage framing the entire front wall of the venue. You were just on time for an event you didn’t know was happening, and as your plate was set in front of you the lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit center stage, illuminating a beautiful demon wrapped in luxurious furs and skins. You watched as she pulled a microphone close and crooned into it, enthralling all the demons in the club. Your chest ached at the thought of singing, you missed it so much. Mimzy may have been the best in Hell, but even her silky voice couldn’t rival that of an angel.

// 

Alastor paced around his personal room in the Hotel. He had called in a multitude of favors, all seeking information on you, but not a single demon seemed to know a thing about you. His frustration was rising, but with it so was his interest. Who could (Y/N) possibly be that nobody knows anything? What kind of secret could she be keeping with that kind of impenetrability? He desired to strongly to know it, craved to know you in a way he couldn’t describe. He decided to relax, he’d head down to Mimzy’s and watch her perform. Nobody sings like they used to anymore, like back in his day of radio, but Mimzy came damn close. 

He got there as the show began and, upon scanning the crowd, noticed you watching on the edge of your seat. His smile crept up his face and his head tilted to one side as he watched your emotions play over your face. The sadness in your eyes was apparent, and he drank in all your details as the show went on. As it ended, he slunk out in a rush of shadows before you could have the chance to notice him there. This was the lead he had needed to create a plan to hear your voice.

//

You got back to your hotel room late that night, staying out to marvel at the town and Mimzy’s club a bit longer than you probably should have. When you weren’t actively being threatened, Hell didn’t seem like too bad of a place, and you really appreciated the change Charlie was trying to make with the Hotel. As you closed the door to your room, you were hit with a wave of needs you’d been neglecting to alleviate. Your chest ached with the desire to sing again, as jovially as you had done in Heaven. Your shoulders stung as well, from keeping your wings bound for so long. You did a quick glance around the room, making sure that you truly were alone, before taking off your turtleneck and extending your wings slightly. There wasn’t enough space to extend them to your full wingspan, but there was enough to give them a good little shake. As you felt the bliss from the stretch, you indulged and began to hum yourself a little tune, as quietly as you could. Your halo glowed with a faint light as you did, giving you a warm feeling that you hadn’t realized fully how much you’d missed. 

You glanced around again to reassure yourself, unable to shake the feeling of being watched, before humming a bit more confidently. You slid your turtleneck back on and laid down on the bed, closing your eyes and getting lost in your little tune. You could almost hear music accompanying you, brass horns and jazz pianos creating a sweet melody alongside you, nearly singing by this point, your halo casting a glow like a warm fire across the walls. Suddenly, your eyes snapped open and you abruptly stopped. You could hear music playing with you. You could still hear the jazzy music playing, as Alastor melted out of a shadow and clapped his hands together, the sound of an audience roaring in applause emanating from him. “My my, sweetheart! You neglected to mention you were an angel!”

You felt your heart freeze in your chest.


	7. Chapter 7

When Alastor saw you entranced by Mimzy’s song, he had seen the small place of vulnerability, the place to strike while the iron was hot, so to say. He had hoped that to encourage song would be to encourage your voice, and it had so deliciously worked out for him. Imagine his surprise when, from a shadow in your room, he watched you unfurl a pair of wings and cast the room aglow! An angel, down here in Hell! An angel all for his very own. 

He approached you where you were sitting stiffly on the bed, smiling the sharpest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t identify. He broke the silence, saying, “Forgive my sudden come-on, but what is an angel like you doing in a place like this?” His radio’s laugh track rolled again as his eyes narrowed, seeming to focus even closer on you. 

You shook your head and tapped your throat like you had done at breakfast. He laughed, genuinely him this time, not a recording, and said “Oh come now darling, I already heard you sing! There’s no more need to pretend the cat’s got your tongue!” Alastor’s grin was becoming vicious. He had the upper hand in this game. Your cards were on the table, and everything was stacked in his favor. That is, until you sighed dejectedly and stuck your tongue out at him.

“Now, I don’t believe we need to resort to impolite-“ he began, stopping upon noticing the gleaming silver where a soft pink should be. “Goodness me, what have we here?” He took a step closer, as if to inspect it better. You looked him dead in the eyes, as if to ask if he understood now. “What does this do, darling? Why do you keep your little secret so tight between pursed lips?” You didn’t break eye contact, willing him to understand. “Sweetheart I’m one of the most powerful demons in Hell. Whatever little trick you have, I promise I can take it.” He said, self-assured to the point of cockiness. 

You let out a sigh and began to speak to him.

//

Alastor watched like a hawk as your tongue darted back into your mouth, and he could barely contain his suspense as you parted your lips to begin speaking. The moment your voice left your lips, he was floored. It was like a full symphony performing each syllable, lulling him into the warmth and safety that your humming had seemed to light the room with earlier. He barely even registered what you were saying at first, feeling every muscle in his body relax and his mind begin to go blank. Almost reflexively, like a twitch while falling, he snapped to attention and radio static filled the room, loud enough to drown out almost all of your voice. This was the only way he could listen to you without falling under your spell - through a thick layer of interference. He listened as you relayed your story as well as he could, but he couldn’t shake the giddiness that built up inside him. The infinite possibility for chaos if you and him were to work together! An angel with a silver tongue and a demon with a direct connection to every radio in Hell? It was unbeatable, it was…perfect. He sighed, so deep into thinking about the intrigue and excitement you’ve brought him that he couldn’t ignore the slight twist in his stomach as he watched you talk. The twinge in his heart when he thinks of you that he’s been forcing away, ignoring, blaming on boredom, the list goes on. He grips his microphone staff tighter and truly feels it for the first time, the way you make his chest tighten, and he decides that can be dealt with in tandem with everything else.

//

You have to speak through his loud radio static, but you notice that Alastor doesn’t seem to be brain dead from listening to you. It gives you a small sliver of hope, finally, that you have somebody you can communicate semi-normally with. Once you finish speaking, the static fades away and Alastor is left standing there with the most excited smile you’ve seen. “My dear that is quite the power you have there, quite the power! You even almost gave me a run for my money, ha ha! Almost! Tell me my darling, why would you ever want to go back to Heaven? You could rule Hell itself with a power like that!” The static encroached again as he expected a response. “Well,” you said simply, “I wouldn’t feel right about using this to hurt others.” 

//

Alastor’s heart skipped a beat. This was the most interesting development yet – a wildly powerful fallen angel who was good, get this, just for the sake of being good. Something in him felt set alight by trying to imagine a situation that would get (Y/N) to do something bad, to act immorally, to hurt someone. A heat lit up his cheeks and pooled in his stomach as he daydreamed of seeing her reserved manner melt away in his grasp. Even without your silver tongue you were so charming; he couldn’t help but feel himself sink deeper into it all. He wanted nothing more than for you to be his, his in every way. He wanted to feel your supple body in his arms, he wanted to feel your immense power when you let go, and he wanted to hear your sweet song at least once. You were so alluring. He gave a quick quip in response to your display of morality and quickly excused himself from your room. The last thing he wanted was for you to notice how shaken up he’d become.


	8. Chapter 8

You thought you’d done a pretty good job of hiding your identity as an angel, unfortunately, very little slips by Hell’s overlords. Between rumors spreading of an angel being cast down, and Angel Dust himself talking about “bringin’ some lightweight to the hotel from a bar”, a certain Valentino had enough clues to piece together the puzzle. This posed itself to be a bit of a problem when you were walking through town, thinking about visiting Mimzy’s again, when you were suddenly snatched and shoved into a car by a pair of burly demons. Your hands, eyes, mouth, and legs were bound before you could fully register what was going on, and you were knocked out soon after.

//

Alastor woke up more chipper than usual that morning. He had tossed and turned all night, thinking of ways to make today the day he’d ask (Y/N) to make a deal with him, or maybe play a game with him (one he knew he could win, of course). Regardless of what tickled his fancy in the moment, the result would be the same – he wanted you to be his partner, so he would make those the stakes. It would be so thrilling! He swayed down the hallway and into your room, calling “Oh, (Y/N)-“ before noticing the room was empty. Hm. No bother, you couldn’t be far. He headed downstairs and asked Angel if he’d seen you around today and left in a haste when Angel said he’d saw you leave for town after waking up.

// 

You came to in a large, golden cage, ornately shaped like an antique birdcage in the middle of what appeared to be an opium den. Demons in various states of undress were lounging around, draped over furniture and each other as you stood, groggy. You immediately noticed there were two slits cut in the back of your shirt and your wings had been pulled through, extending them into a position you couldn’t reach to retract them from. Looking around, the large form of Valentino laughed from an oversized chair next to your cage, almost like a throne. “So glad you could join us, my angel! Welcome to your new job. You have one function and one function only: you’re going to sing for these lovely people.” He gestured out at the small crowd littering the room. Despite the overall lethargy, many did have their eyes locked on you. “And if you don’t, or think you wanna try anything smart, there will be consequences sweetheart.” Hearing him call you ‘sweetheart’ brought back memories of Alastor’s voice, popping with static, calling you the exact same thing. You felt exposed and afraid here, and you desperately wished that Alastor would come help you.

“So doll, let’s get it goin’, yeah?” Valentino prompted. You swallowed shallowly, shaking a little as you stood fully, wings permanently on spectacle, and began to sing. The glow emanating from your cage was intoxicating, your voice was the new hit drug. The demons around the room slipped into the new high of angel song as tears slipped down your face. This is how you were doomed to live, never to see Heaven or Alastor or anything again.

//

Alastor only had to wipe three demons out of existence to find out that you had been kidnapped. His rage burned inside him like something inhuman, sigils and interference surrounding him like an aura. Every demon in town knew the Radio Demon, and upon sight found an alley or doorway to scurry into as he passed. He marched furiously into the seedy part of town, Valentino’s domain, straight up to the pimp’s own personal club. With a swing of his staff the door blew open, and what he saw wrenched his guts and broke his heart. You, like a saint, like an idol, gleaming with angelic power from a gaudy golden cage and all these junkies soaking in your grace without ever understanding the beauty and power behind it. It made him sick. It made him pissed.

//

At the sound of the door, Valentino jumped, and your song faltered. Demons looked around, the trance broken. Alastor’s hair tousled in a wind that picked up as he summoned giant holes in the fabric of Hell itself, filled with crushing tentacles, all over the room. There was chaos as demons screamed and blood was shed. A few of the tentacles pried the bars composing your cage beyond recognition, and you dashed out and ran towards Alastor, away from the chaos and destruction he was causing. Once you reached him, he wrapped and arm around you and you felt a shadow pass over you as you opened your eyes and were in a room in the hotel you didn’t recognize.

Alastor set both of his hands down on top of the dresser and just took a moment to breathe, his eyes closed. ‘This must be his room’, you thought, noticing a suit jacket on the back of a chair and a stack of papers on a dark wooden desk. You reached out and touched his sleeve, bringing him back to the present. He twisted your hand into his and twirled you once, pulling you close to his body before whispering “I thought I’d lost you, (Y/N), “ into your ear. You felt breathless. You wished you could tell him, tell him anything, you looked pleading into his eyes. 

“Here, I’ve been thinking, try this,” Alastor says, flicking his hand and calling his microphone staff into his palm. He holds it out to you and you take it, gingerly. You close your eyes and hold it tightly, until finally, out from the speaker comes your voice. “Thank you for coming when I needed you,” the little radio relays, without any of the adverse effects of your silver tongue. Alastor laughs as your voice comes out shrouded in radio static, laughs as he feels his heart soar at that beautiful sound. He grabs you by the waist and spins you around, hearing your laughter light as sunshine over the radio. He sets you back down and pulls you into a kiss, and you feel your heart flutter. “(Y/N), please, never leave my side,” he starts. This isn’t quite as dignified as he imagined it going this morning, but it feels so important right now. “Please be my darling forever, (Y/N). We can make our own Heaven, here in Hell.” 

A smile arcs across your face and you see the genuine emotion in his eyes, his smile ever-present but worried in this moment. “Yes! Of course!” your voice plays from the radio, the audience cheering track playing as you say it.


End file.
